“Oh, my gosh, a reader was just fangirling over you,” Devlin said excitedly as she set the food down on my table, which had ample space due to a lack of titles and quality merchandise.
This was a mistake. What am I doing here? I’m a phony.
“Clay… Clay… Ropes!” Devlin whisper shouted, and I snapped to attention.
“What?”
“Did you hear what I said? You were kinda zoned out there.”
“Yeah, uh, sorry,” I said, taking a second to mentally hit the rewind button. “Something about someone fangirling?”
“Yes, over you,” Devlin said with a playful smile and poke in my ribs. “Or should I say, over Clay.”
“No way, I’m sure she was just being nice. Who was she?”
“Her name is Norma, and she’s friends with Val Weston.”
“And she was nice?”
“I know, right? She came up to me while I was getting coffee to apologize for Val being a complete vag-hat to you.”
“She didn’t say that.”
“Not in so many words, but she was very sweet, and thought I was hilarious when I called Val a bitch.”
“Oh, now I see why you liked her so much.”
“Shut up, writer boy. Anyway, I invited her to come meet you and she had a stroke and ran away.”
“You’re out of your mind.”
“I’m not even exaggerating.”
I changed the subject back to the current object of my neurosis, my table.
I placed my hands upon Devlin’s shoulders and looked deeply into her eyes. “Forget about all that. I need you to help me.”
“What can I do?”
“Kill me and throw my body overboard.”
“But if you’re not here to sell the books, how will you make money for the club?” Devlin deadpanned.
“They can have my life insurance policy,” I replied.
“You have a life insurance policy? Oh, right. Rich kid,” Devlin teased.
“Ex-rich kid, current nervous wreck.”
“You’re going to be fine,” she tried to reassure me.
“That’s what I’m worried about. Being just fine. Look at some of these tables, Devlin. These authors have way more titles and experience. I don’t want to look like an imposter next to them. This is hard for me. When I’m with my club I know who I am, but now that I’m here I feel like an imposter.
Devlin took my face in her hands. “You’re not an imposter, you’re an author. An author with a small, but growing fanbase of wonderful readers, who have spent their time and money to come on this boat to meet you. They came to see you, Clay Morningwood, not your table. They fell in love with your words, and the man that wrote them. I know how they feel because I did too, so just show these readers your heart today and you’ll do great.
I leaned down and kissed her slowly. “You know, if you’re ever ready to hang up your tattoo gun, you’d make a hell of a motivational speaker.”
* * *
“Say it!” Devlin demanded as she rained down an assault in the form of her fingers squeezing my sides.
“I’ll never tap out,” I replied and held her wrists as she wriggled and squirmed to break free of my grasp.
“Say it. Say I was right, you jerk.”
“I think you’re overestimating your position,” I challenged, not wanting to show Devlin how exhausted I truly was.
“Oh, yeah?” Devlin quickly slid her knee between my legs up to my crotch.
“Hey, no low blows,” I said, and rolled Devlin onto her back.
“No fair,” she protested, and I kissed her neck as she continued to squirm.
“Say I was right.”
“Okay, now I know you don’t understand the rules of wrestling. You don’t make demands while you’re losing.”
“You’re the loser,” Devlin teased.
“Not today,” I exclaimed triumphantly, letting go of Devlin to strike a flex pose.
“That’s right, and it’s all because of who?”
“Because of you,” I said in mock surrender.
“Because why?”
“Because… you were right.”
“That’s right, motherfuckers,” Devlin yelled jubilantly. “Clay Morningwood rocked his first signing and sold out.”
“That’s not true, I still have eight books left,” I corrected.
“Close enough,” she said, “Now pour me another glass of that fancy-ass Champagne, and since we’re on a boat, why don’t you fuck me like one of your French whores, Jack?”
I chuckled. “I think you may need to watch Titanic again. I’m not quite sure that’s exactly what Kate Winslet said.”
I felt a mixture of elation and exhaustion, something I hadn’t felt since my early days as a full patch in the Saints, during my first long runs to Idaho and California. The signing had gone better than I could have possibly imagined, and I felt like I’d used every muscle in my body today, including ones inside my brain I never knew existed.
“I can hear you thinking, and you should be fucking,” Devlin said, snapping my full attention back to her. She was so fuckin’ sexy, and despite my exhaustion, I couldn’t wait to bury myself inside of her.
“Sorry, it’s been one hell of day,” I said, my voice sounding like it did back when I still smoked.
“I can take a rain check if you’re too tired, or you can hand me the treasure chest and I’ll find something to take care of myself with.”
“I’ll always take care of you,” I said, and pulled off my shirt.
* * *
Devlin
“Where do you want me?” Ropes asked, and I took a moment to decide what I wanted to do to him.
“Stand in front of the bed,” I said.
I sat on the edge, unable to kneel due to my boot, and wrapped my hand around his already hard shaft. “I wish I had red lipstick,” I mused as I slid my mouth over his tip.
His sharp intake of breath made me smile, but then I was all about how quickly I could make him come, and I took him deeper, moving my hand with the motion of my mouth, faster and faster before gripping his ass and encouraging him to fuck me back.
It didn’t take much, then his hands were on my head and he was pulling me forward (not that I needed much encouragement there), and he was fucking my mouth… hard.
“Fuck, Dev, I’m gonna come.”
I nodded and the warmth of his cum filled my mouth and I took it all. He pulled out and I found my panties tugged from my body, then he pushed me back and knelt between my legs. His mouth covered my core and he sucked gently, before running his tongue between my folds and sliding his fingers inside of me.
I gripped his hair as he sucked, fingered, and blew me to a mind-blowing orgasm, this time it was his turn to take my juices into his mouth. Ropes had done his job and I felt taken care of, as promised.
Devlin
I smoothed my extra short, extra tight skirt over my hips and twisted my body to see every angle in my full-length mirror. I wanted to be perfect tonight. Max was taking me out. It was an unusual event and I wanted more of them, so I took special care to make it worth his time and effort.
Don’t get me wrong, I loved our ‘sessions.’ I would submit to him in any way, on any day, but a session in public made me wet just thinking about it, and I wanted to grab my vibrator and give myself some relief. That would be against the rules, however, so I took a few deep breaths and focused on finishing my makeup.
Adding an extra layer of cherry-red lipstick, I pressed my lips together and smiled. Max loved red on me, and I remembered him enjoying the sight of my lipstick on his dick, so my hope was, after seeing my choice of lip color, he would let me suck him off again tonight.
I’d chosen to go completely bare tonight, but I took a pair of panties and shoved them into my clutch, just in case I needed some protection. Sitting gingerly on the edge of a chair, I slid on the Louis Vuitton stilettos Max had given me, then rose to my feet just as my doorbell rang.
I shive
red in anticipation of the evening and made my way to the door. After checking the peephole, I pulled my door open, lowering my head, and clasping my hands in front of me. “Good evening.”
Max’s fingers came to my chin and he gently lifted it. “Good evening, my beautiful Cherry. You may look at me.”
My eyes met his and the look of burning desire nearly had me sliding to my knees to beg for an orgasm. Just one would do for the moment.
“You look bothered, sweetheart,” he observed.
I squeezed my legs together and took a deep breath. “I’m excited, Max.”
“Are your panties wet?”
“I’m not wearing panties, Max.”
His quiet, quick intake of breath made me smile, but I tried to hide my glee. I wanted him to fuck me, and being too pleased with myself often meant straight sex. I didn’t want it straight tonight, I wanted it kinky as hell.
His hand slid between my legs and his thumb whispered over my clit. I swallowed and grasped the doorframe as he slipped two fingers inside of me.
“Soaked,” he observed.
I nodded.
He smiled slowly, then his fingers moved inside of me, while his thumb added more and more pressure to my clit. I bit my lip and dropped my head back as he finger-fucked me in the doorway of my apartment where anyone could walk past at any time.
“Max,” I breathed out.
“Shhh,” he whispered.
I bit my lip and gripped the doorframe harder.
“Spread your legs, Cherry.”
I did as he demanded and his hand shifted so his palm connected with my mound as he added another finger to my pussy. Then he pumped his fingers into me faster and faster, his palm slapping me as he went, and I knew, just knew, I was going to have to stay silent as I came. This caused both fear and anticipation and my body reacted immediately. I gulped in several deep breaths as I came against his hand and then focused on him as he pulled his hand away, his palm glistening with my juices.
Max ran his tongue over his hand, then sucked his fingers into his mouth and smiled. “Fucking delicious, baby.” Settling a finger on my lower lip. “Open.” I opened my mouth and he slid his finger into my mouth. “Taste.”
I sucked his finger, my lipstick adding a bright red ring to the digit and I hoped once again he’d let me do the same to his dick later.
He pulled his hand away, took a handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped his hand as he grinned, then slid the linen between my legs to clean me up. “Good girl. Are you ready?”
I nodded, smoothing my skirt down and grabbing my keys. I handed them to him and he locked up, helping me down the stairs and to the awaiting car.
“Holy crap,” I breathed out. I was sitting on the top deck of the ship, lounging on a chaise while Ropes took a dip in the pool. I could feel my bikini bottoms dampen as I read another excerpt from Ropes’s current manuscript.
Ropes glanced at me from the middle of the pool and I squeezed my eyes shut slightly and took a deep breath.
“You okay?”
I squeaked and opened my eyes, which were shaded behind dark sunglasses, cold water dripping onto me as Ropes wrapped a towel around his waist.
“No,” I admitted.
“Your foot bothering you?” he asked in concern.
I shook my head. “Not my foot.”
“Well, what’s wrong, then?”
I shifted in my seat. “I decided to read a little more of your story, Clay, that’s what’s wrong. And now I’m horny as fuck, sitting on a lounge chair in the open air, when all I want to do is drag you somewhere and continue what we started last night.”
“Holy shit,” he hissed. “Let’s find someplace right now.”
“I’d love to, be we don’t have that much time. We’ve gotta get back to the cabin and change for the end-of-cruise party.”
“When’s that?”
“Not until the evening.”
“Babe, it’s kind of the evening now,” Ropes motioned to the sky.
I ripped my sunglasses from my head and gasped to find the sun was setting. I checked my watch and squeaked, “Shit, we’re late!”
“It’s no big deal,” Ropes replied, “We’ll just blame your boot.”
“It’s your fault,” I growled. “I lost track of time reading your stupid book.”
“Hey,” Ropes protested. “I know the guy who wrote that.”
“Stop joking around and help me,” I snapped.
“It’s okay, baby. We can be a little late. Where’s the party?” Ropes asked, helping me up.
“In the Skylight Lounge, and we need to be on time.” My panic level was starting to rise, as was my irritation with Ropes’s cavalier attitude. I hated being late. I had to be where I was supposed to be, when I was supposed to be there. Being late for anything triggered thoughts and feelings about my capture. When I was being held, I had hours, sometimes days to do nothing but think. I started to obsess on thoughts about the outside world moving on without me. I was convinced that no one knew we were missing, and that we’d never be found. Since the rescue, being punctual has been a compulsion.
“We’ll never make it in time,” Ropes said, casually.
“No shit, Captain Obvious,” I snapped.
“Whoa, what did I say?”
“Forget it,” I said, frantically stuffing my last belonging into my bag.
“Devlin,” Ropes said, grabbing my shoulders. “What’s going on? A minute ago, you wanted to jump my bones, and now you’re freaking out on me.”
“We don’t have time for this. We’re already late and it’s going to take me forever to get back to the cabin with this goddamned boot and my goddamned foot!”
* * *
Ropes
I thought I’d seen Devlin angry when we were alone in Sally Anne’s office, but I knew her well enough now to know that was only foreplay. Devlin dropping god bombs made it clear that now she was angry. I had no idea why, other than being late, but to me that was more of a minor irritation than anything. Given our current location and the fact that we were late to a cocktail party also made me feel like Devlin was blowing this way out of proportion. However, I was smart enough to keep these thoughts to myself and set my mind to getting Devlin back to the cabin as quickly as possible.
Devlin was silent except for the occasional whimper of pain as we hustled back to the cabin. Any time I’d offer to get her a wheelchair, or take a break, she’d merely grunt at me through pursed lips as she hobbled along. The only bright spot in all of this was seeing Devlin, in her bikini, with a little extra bounce in her step as we walked. In her haste, she didn’t even grab a towel when we left the pool. Her perfect alabaster skin accentuated by her beautiful artwork on display for all. Normally I’d be a little jealous, but all I wanted to do was stare at the movement of her incredible body. I took mental snapshots as we walked and stored them away for scene inspiration later.
Devlin finally broke her silence when we got to our cabin. “Do you have the room key?”
“I thought you had it,” I replied.
“What?”
“I was wondering where you were hiding it the whole time we were walking here.”
Devlin scowled at me and I produced the card key from my shorts pocket with a grin.
“Not funny,” she said as she scooted past me into the room.
* * *
Devlin
I took one of my last remaining pain pills and washed it down with what was left in last night’s Champaign bottle. Both my toe and head were throbbing, and I couldn’t believe we had to turn around and walk all the way to the lounge. Of course, I could just let Ropes get me a damned wheelchair, but the thought of that was somehow worse.
The Do Not Disturb sign had been on the door all day long so the cabin was a disaster, much like me. We’d spent most of the day by the pool and my windswept hair and makeup-free face showed it. I pulled my hair up as fashionably as possible and put on enough makeup to prevent me from being mistaken as a cor
pse. The entire cruise had been casual dress, and I’d showed up overdressed to every event thus far, so this time I put on some tight black jeans and a shirt from Fat Donny’s and was ready to go. I looked like a lukewarm mess, but I was ready.
Ropes, of course, simply changed from one designer t-shirt to another, ran his fingers through his hair once or twice and looked like he was ready for a modeling shoot.
“Let’s go,” I said sharply, turning for the door.
“No,” Ropes replied.
“We’re late enough as it is and you keeping screwing around.”
“I’m not screwing around, baby, sit down for just a minute so we can talk,” he said softly.
I flopped down on the edge of the bed with an aggravated huff.
“I’m sorry for whatever I did that set you off at the pool, and for making us late, and for the Vietnam War if it gets us back on the same page and having fun again.”
His obvious sincerity melted my ice-queen heart and I found myself instantly unable to stay mad at him. Besides, I knew he didn’t do anything wrong. “I have a thing about being late. It’s a big thing actually.”
“Okay.” Ropes smiled, taking my hands in his. “I can appreciate punctuality.”
“It’s more than that. Being late, or deviating from plans, triggers feelings of being taken.”
“Shit, Devlin. I’m sorry I was clowning around so much, I was just trying to cheer you up.”
“I understand, I really do. You didn’t do anything wrong, and I should have told you about my anxiety. It’s not just being late, there are a lot of things that can trigger my attacks. I’m usually able to keep things together, but sometimes I feel overwhelmed and sort of cave in.”
“You can always tell me how you’re feeling, no matter what. If I upset you, I want you to tell me, and if you are ever feeling an anxiety attack coming on, you let me know and I’ll do whatever you need me to do until it’s passed.”
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